


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by GoldenTruth813



Series: A Very Potter Christmas [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, background jeddy, embarrassing older brother, matching family pajamas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13086030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: It's not as if Scorpius hasn't met the Potters before. So why does Albus seem to be so embarrassed?





	All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aibidil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibidil/gifts).



> Thanks untilourpathy and jadepreseley for the quick beta job! 
> 
> This is a birthday ficlet for aibidil, who is wonderful and deserves all the sweet things on her birthday!

All things considered, Scorpius thought supper on Christmas Eve had gone rather well.

Albus’s mother and father had been polite to the point of awkwardness as they’d asked him things they surely knew, trying to ensure there was no uncomfortable silence during dinner, but that had just led to, well… more awkwardness.

James had laughed himself hoarse, very nearly falling out of his chair, and Albus’s cheeks had turned a bright red as he clutched at Scorpius knee under the table, but Scorpius actually thought it was rather sweet they were trying so hard to make a good impression. It didn't seem to matter that Scorpius had been over to their home several times before, or that he knew just about every single thing there was to know about the Potter family already; it was the first time he was visiting since he and Albus had started dating just after seventh year.

He’d meant to visit all summer, but his parents had wanted him to holiday in France with them, and then once September had started he’d been so busy with his apprenticeship. Every second of his free time was spent with Albus, who insisted that he had no desire to waste their precious alone time together making small talk with his parents over dinner.  

So when Albus had come to visit him at the shop one day, something small and hopeful had begun to simmer in Scorpius’s stomach. He’d watched Albus shove his hands in his trousers, blowing the fringe from his eyes and shuffling his feet looking almost shy, before asking if Scorpius might come stay for the Christmas holidays. Scorpius had hoped that it might mean something important - perhaps some slightly official meet-the-parents type of thing, even though he’d technically met Albus’s family loads of times.

He'd been more than delighted on the first night when he’d shown up; Albus had smiled at him brightly as if Scorpius simply being there was a delight. That night, he'd crawled into the spare bed Mr. Potter had made up for him on the floor of Albus’s bedroom, not wanting to make too many assumptions, but Albus had simply made an exasperated noise and lifted his duvet muttering “Get in here, you daft wanker.”

Scorpius had obliged, scrambling into the bed and wrapping himself around the other boy as he tried and failed to contain his own smile.

Albus had woken him at the crack of dawn the next morning with an over-enthusiastic blowjob. Scorpius hadn’t felt any need to complain, though, because as far as he was concerned Albus’s mouth being anywhere near his cock was fucking glorious, even if Al sometimes forgot to cover his teeth or giggled when Scorpius would squirm. Truth be told, he especially liked those bits. The first time it had happened Scorpius had flushed in embarrassment until he’d realized the small noises weren't laughter directed at him, but were because Albus was happy; was relaxed. And it had made Scorpius come in an embarrassingly fast time to realize he was the only one who got to see Albus like that.

The longer Scorpius stayed, the more he thought he understood (even if he didn't agree with) why Albus had waited so long to bring him over. Albus seemed almost embarrassed. Scorpius didn’t quite understand it because it wasn’t like he and Albus hadn’t been best friends for seven years, and it wasn’t as if he didn't already know all there was to know about Albus Severus Potter. But sometimes after supper when James would have too much Firewhisky and start to ruffle Albus’s hair as he told the most ridiculous baby stories he knew of, Albus would look at him almost as if he were worried.

The second night when he’d been there, he and Albus had ducked outside while Mrs. Potter had been cooking dinner with Albus’s grandma, only to accidentally stumble upon Teddy on his knees behind the shed, James’s eyes were squeezed shut and his hands were fisted in Teddy’s hair, which was so blue it nearly glowed in the dark. Albus had made a sound that sounded like a dying Erumpent and had nearly fallen over a rose bush, dragging Scorpius inside and refusing to come down to dinner. It didn’t matter that Scorpius had tried to logically remind him that he should’ve known perfectly well what Teddy and James got up to considering the types of things that usually came out of James’s mouth, and it didn’t matter that Scorpius told Albus in no uncertain terms he didn’t give a flying fuck what James’s Quidditch toned stomach or cock looked like. Albus still spent the rest of the night with his face shoved into his pillow. It wasn’t until late that night, once Scorpius was pretending to be asleep, that Albus climbed down onto his bed on the floor and shoved his face into Scorpius’s neck.

Some nights, when Mr. Potter had far too much eggnog (which Albus assured him was probably more Firewhisky than eggnog, since his Uncle George made it) he tended to chase Albus’s mother around the house with mistletoe, and make jokes that made James and Albus both look like they wanted the sofa to swallow them up whole.

But Scorpius wasn’t entirely sure what they were so embarrassed about. He liked Mr. and Mrs. Potter quite a lot; they were so different from his own parents. Not that he didn’t love his mother and father, and he knew of course that they loved each other, but there was something about the open way in which Albus’s family loved and laughed and lived that made Scorpius’s chest ache with a sort of deep want that felt almost as confusing as it was overwhelming.

But really, even having known Albus for so long and having spent nearly a fortnight with his family already, nothing could have prepared him for standing outside of the loo on Christmas morning begging Albus to come out.

“Albus, please,” he all but shouts, trying to be heard over the racket from the living room. The wireless is blasting Christmas Carols that are only marginally drowned out by James, who has taken his parent's temporary absence as an excuse to try to turn all the lyrics into weird festive euphemisms for sex.

From his current vantage point at the end of the hallway Scorpius can clearly see Teddy, who should be telling him to stop, but instead just whispers something that only makes James sing louder with raunchier lyrics..

“Albus Severus Potter, I know you’re in there and I demand you come out right this minute,” Scorpius yells.

Albus does not come right out. Instead, several long minutes go by, during which Scorpius is sorely tempted to shout at James that he’s quite certain no one meant that when they wrote Jingle Bells. Finally, he hears the door start to creak open. Scorpius can see the smallest sliver of Albus’s face, and he can tell even in the dim light that Albus looks like he’s in a right strop.

“Took you long enough,” Scorpius tells him and Albus huffs in response, slamming the door shut. “Oh come on! It’s just pajamas!”

“It’s not just pajamas, Scorpius. It’s matching pajamas!” he bemoans, and Scorpius can vividly imagine the surly look of displeasure that must be spread across Albus’s face without even seeing him. It probably looks about as unpleasant as the sour face he’d made when Mr. Potter had dolled out out the first gifts of the morning to his family that, much to Albus’s great dismay, had turned out to be matching family Christmas pajamas. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were already wearing theirs, striped red and green things with twinkling trees and little golden snitches. Lily had seemed to find it all fairly amusing, and James had, as usual, simply smiled and proclaimed that the pajamas would obviously look better on him than anyone else in the room.

“Alright, so it’s matching pajamas. But Lily has gone to change and James already has his on.” He wisely doesn’t mention that after Albus had taken his own pair of pajamas and sulked off to the loo nearly twenty minutes prior, James had simply shrugged and begun to strip in the middle of the living room without a shred of modesty. Lily hadn’t seemed to notice, and Teddy had looked like he wanted to do a lot more than just notice. Scorpius was only glad James had the decency to at least leave his underpants on because despite Albus’s occasional jokes spurred on by what he can only assume is middle child insecurity, Scorpius has absolutely no interest in the oldest Potter. Sure James might be fit - very fit - but he’s also far too brash and in your face for Scorpius, who finds Albus’s quiet demeanor and self-deprecating sense of humor far more attractive. He’s also far more partial to the flat but enticingly soft expanse of Albus’s stomach, rather than James’s stomach, which honestly scares Scorpius a bit because it looks hard enough to bounce a Quaffle off of it, and he can’t imagine that’s very nice to cuddle on cold winter nights.

“I don’t want to come out.” Albus’s voice sounds far too forlorn for Christmas morning. Scorpius wonders if he’s comparing himself to his brother or his father.

“Please.” Albus doesn’t answer, so he tries again. “Please, Al.”

He doesn’t have to wait long, knows it's only that Albus can never resist when Scorpius begs. A smile threatens the corner of Scorpius’s mouth when the door is pushed all the way open. Albus’s hair is a mess as he tries to tuck a long strand behind his ears, reaching out to grab his elbow as if that might cover him. The pajama bottoms hang over his feet so just his bare toes peek out, and there is a Snitch fluttering just near the collar, precisely where Scorpius likes to kiss him. It makes that same overwhelming feeling swirl in the pit of his stomach.

“I look like a fucking idiot,” Albus grumbles, peeking at Scorpius as if waiting for him to agree.

“You look-” But Scorpius stops, not sure how to vocalize how Albus looks. He truly does look a bit silly, if only because the pajamas are far too bright and obnoxious, and nothing like what Albus would normally wear. But he also looks soft, almost younger somehow, almost vulnerable. Scorpius is reminded suddenly of the year he’d spent six months begging his parents for a Crup, being assured by his father that he would not be getting the Crup, only to wake up on Christmas morning to find said Crup licking at his toes. Albus looks like everything Scorpius has always wanted. “You look like good,” he finally whispers, backing Albus up into the loo and shutting the door behind them.

Albus laughs, that same sort of breathless laugh that makes Scorpius want to give him everything. “You fucking liar, Scor.”

Scorpius makes a noise. “I never lie.”

“Yeah, well, you bend the truth. Go ahead,” he mumbles, his fingers tightening in the front of Scorpius’s grey jumper. “Tell me what you really think.”

This time Scorpius doesn’t bother to contain his smile. “I think you’d look better out of the pajamas.”

Albus grins, tugging him in for a kiss, and Scorpius is suddenly glad for James’s obnoxiously loud singing, as it drowns out the noises he’s sure they’re going to be making soon as Albus’s pajamas fall to the floor in a pile.

Scorpius just smirks. “That’s definitely better.”


End file.
